


We Almost Had it All

by grimmypuff



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Car Accidents, Graphic Description of Injuries, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Stiles, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 02:53:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14126541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimmypuff/pseuds/grimmypuff
Summary: Stiles gets hurt, but Derek suffers as well.





	We Almost Had it All

**Author's Note:**

  * For [screaming-internally](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=screaming-internally).



> I missed sign-ups for the Sterek Glompfest, so when I was offered a prompt as a pinch hitter, I jumped at the chance. This was written for screaming-internally. I hope I've filled your prompt the way you envisioned it!

Stiles feels like he's drowning, but he's not in water. Other than that, he’s not sure where he is, because everything's black, and the pressure building in his chest from not being able to catch his breath has him gasping like a fish on dry land, but the oxygen's somehow not making it to his lungs. He tries to focus; he tries to recall what he was doing before he became aware of what’s happening now, but it's no use. The last thing he remembers is a sound so loud that he couldn't really hear it, just feel it, shaking his bones. He can't see anything, and he can't tell if his eyes are open or if it's dark.

The next thing he knows, the pressure's gone from his chest, but it's been replaced by a sharp, slicing pain ripping through his head and it makes him long for the drowning sensation like sunshine on a cloudy day. He thinks it's a good thing that he feels pain; that means he's still alive, right? The pain increases, however, until it's beyond intolerable. Shouldn't he be passing out about now? Isn't that how it works? He knows he should be writhing, screaming, anything, but he can hardly breathe, much less move or make a sound.

He goes from not being able to see anything because of darkness, to being blinded by bright lights. The smell of smoke and burning flesh and blood is rich in the air and he feels himself starting to fade. He does his best to fight it; he knows he should try to stay awake. His last thought before he loses consciousness is to hope that wherever he is, Derek and their newly-adopted daughter, Lily, aren't with him.

***

"Derek?" Stiles starts, rushing forward to where he sees him sitting in the rocking chair in Lily's room, gently rocking her back and forth. "You two are such a sight for sore eyes. Man, I had the worst dream, you wouldn't even believe it." He sees Derek kiss Lily's temple softly, and he murmurs something to her, but Stiles doesn't hear it.

"What'd you say?" Stiles asks.  

When Derek doesn't answer, Stiles reaches out and places his hand on Derek's shoulder, only to have it pass right through. He freezes before he tries again and again, thinking he still must be trapped in his nightmare, but the same thing happens. Stiles can only watch on in confused horror as Derek continues to rock Lily, crooning to her softly.

"Daddy didn't wake up, sweetheart," Derek finally says, just as Stiles’ panic has him falling to his knees.

Stiles, from his place on the floor, can finally see Derek's face, and what he sees freezes him, stopping his breath like a punch to the gut. Derek, usually calm and smiling, is ashen, and tears are coursing down his cheeks. He doesn't bother to wipe them as he continues talking to Lily.

"The surgeons tried so hard, Lily," Derek says, his voice sounding shattered as he works furiously to force the words out. "They worked so hard and so long and Daddy just didn't wake up." Derek presses his face to Lily's head, breathing her in, and Stiles knows he's scenting her, reaching deep for anything that will bring him comfort.

Unable to move from where he's collapsed onto the floor, Stiles can only look up in stupefied terror at the scene that's playing before him. He counts his fingers, and both hands have the correct number of digits. He looks at the Mother Goose clock on the nursery room wall and he can see it's 10:30, and it must be night time, because it's dark out.

He's awake; he's not dreaming. But is he… alive?

Suddenly Lily lets out a cry, and as Derek rubs a large hand across her back to soothe her, Stiles' breath breaks on a sob. He didn't wake up. _He_ didn't wake up. Whatever has happened to him, he was operated on, and he didn't _wake up_.

***

The next thing Stiles knows, it's morning, and he sees a tear-streaked Melissa carefully extracting Lily from Derek's arms. "Derek," she says, her voice soft but firm. It's obvious from his rumpled appearance he spent the night in the rocking chair. "Why don't you try and get some sleep? I'll watch Lily."

Derek looks up, his face a mask of pain. "Where's John?" he asks, confusion evident in his voice.

"He's at the hospital with Stiles," she says, and her voice is low. Quiet. "There were some things to take care of still, and he couldn't bear to leave."

Stiles jumps to his feet, trying to shake off the feeling of shock and denial, and he grabs for Melissa as she cradles Lily in her arms. The same thing happens as before with Derek, his hands go straight through both Melissa and Lily, and Stiles can only whimper.

"I need to go back," Derek says, and his voice sounds like he's been swallowing glass. "He shouldn't be alone."

Melissa visibly winces, and takes a moment to press Lily closer against her chest, kissing the top of her head as if she's gathering strength from it. "Derek, you need to get some rest," she says. "It's been two days, and I know you haven't slept."

"My husband's-" he begins, but chokes on his words, unable to finish. He stands from the chair and shakes his head as if to deny the words that almost came from his mouth. "How can I sleep, Melissa? When Stiles is--"

"Derek," she interrupts firmly, but not without compassion. "You need to rest, even if it's only for a couple hours." She pauses for a moment, and she frowns in concentration, as if she's choosing her words very carefully. "Stiles wouldn't want this for you. He wouldn't want you not sleeping, not eating, and eventually, not being able to care for Lily."

Derek is frowning like he’s contemplating how long he can go without sleep. It’s evident when he finally accepts Melissa’s words as truth because he collapses in on himself like he’s barely able to support his own weight before running his palm over the soft peach fuzz of Lily's head. "You’re right, Melissa. I'll try to sleep," he says, and kisses Lily before leaving the room.

Stiles is caught between not wanting to take his eyes off his daughter and needing to follow Derek, who he can hear moving down the hallway towards their bedroom, breath coming in short gasps. Finally he decides, and runs after Derek, just in time to see him collapse on their bed, pulling Stiles' pillow against his face as he breathes deeply.  

“I can’t do this without you, Stiles,” comes Derek’s voice from behind the pillow. “How am I supposed to do this without you?”

"Oh god, no," Stiles keens, climbing onto the bed beside Derek, trying to press himself tightly against him, but nothing happens, Stiles isn’t solid, he can't touch Derek, he can't feel him. There's nothing he can do to comfort his husband as he sobs into the pillow, and soon Stiles’ cries join Derek’s.

***

Derek is wearing different clothes now, and he’s showered, Stiles knows, because his hair is still damp where it meets the collar of his shirt. He's walking down a long hallway, and Stiles realizes they're at the hospital, just as he sees his father come into view.

"Son," he says, and Stiles nearly trips over his feet, thinks his father can see him, before he realizes his dad is talking to Derek. "Follow me. I'll take you to him," he says, his voice hardly a whisper as he enfolds Derek in a hug.

Stiles watches on in horror as the two walk down the hallway. He's not prepared for this, he doesn't want to see this, but he's unable to do anything but follow. They turn a corner and enter a room, and Stiles is wholly unprepared for what he sees.

Time must have jumped again, because Stiles sees Derek, all his muscles tense, sitting by the side of a hospital bed, his hands wrapped around a bandaged hand. Stiles follows the bandage with his eyes up the arm to the body lying the bed, multiple tubes and wires criss-crossing over and plugged into various machines that chime and beep with activity.

And it's him. Dear God, it's _him_. It's Stiles. He's not dead. He's not healthy, by any stretch of the imagination, but he's not dead. He stares at the bruises and lacerations on his face, at how swollen it is. He sees bandages on his chest under the lightweight hospital gown he's dressed in. There are numerous cuts and scrapes on both his arms. What has him scared is the surgical dressing on the side of his skull.

But he's _alive._

His attention is drawn back to Derek, and Stiles realizes his husband has been speaking, but because of the shock, he hasn't noticed until now.

"Please, Stiles," Derek pleads, "the doctors say you can wake up anytime now. The swelling in your brain’s gone down enough. You should be waking up." He exhales heavily and his voice breaks as he asks, "Why aren't you waking up?" He still has both his hands cradled around Stiles' hand, and he's holding it so gently, like he holds Lily, and Stiles can't breathe with the tenderness of it.

Stiles isn't sure what's happening, he doesn't know how to let Derek know he's okay, he's still here, and he'll be damned if he's going anywhere against his will. Just as he thinks that, however, he has a sensation of being pulled under. Blackness is rising, his vision is fading, and then-nothing.

***

Stiles blinks rapidly as his awareness returns and he sees what's happening before him. Derek's sitting cross-legged on the plush, pale yellow carpet of Lily's bedroom, and she's on a blanket on the floor in front of him. It must be bedtime, because Derek's humming a lullaby softly as he dresses Lily in her pajamas.

Stiles' heart aches. He wants nothing more than to be the one kissing Lily's belly before the snaps that fasten her jammies are done up.

He watches Derek as he leans forward and kisses each of Lily's little hands, her forehead, and her nose, and says, "These are from Daddy, and he's so sorry he's missing bedtime, sweetheart." His voice cracks on the last word, but other than that, Stiles thinks Derek seems calm.

Derek picks her up and rises to his feet, but pauses and sniffs before he moves towards her crib. "Another diaper change is in order," he says, moving to the changing table. With the ease that only multiple diapers changes for months on end brings, Derek has her soiled diaper in the trash in seconds, and is closing up the tabs on the new one when one of them rips off in his hand.

"Damn it," Derek curses, and Stiles startles slightly at his reaction.  Derek grabs another diaper from the stack and goes about putting it on Lily once again. It's when he turns around that Stiles sees he's crying. Silently, yes, but the tears are streaming steadily down his face, and Stiles wishes he knew what was running through Derek's head. He suspects maybe it's better that he doesn't.

When Lily's clean once more Derek places her in the crib. He rubs her back for a while, the tears still falling, and at one point, his hair falls in his eyes. Stiles' instinctively reaches forward to brush the hair back at the same time Derek does, and seeing how ineffectual his own actions are has Stiles gasping weakly. He welcomes the blackness this time when it pulls him under.

***

He can't see anything, but he's not in complete darkness. He tries opening his eyes, but nothing happens. All he can hear is a rushing sound, like being caught outside in a downpour, but then the noise fades, like someone tuning in a radio station. He can hear voices, and he recognizes his father's voice and then-Derek's. He can't understand what's being said, until suddenly he hears Derek's words, loud and clear.

"Stiles. I know you're still with us. I _know_ you're here," Derek says, and his voice is strong and steady. "And you need to know that I love you, Lily loves you, and your father loves you. We're not going anywhere. I'm not going anywhere. I'll wait here for you until you wake up."

There's pressure on Stiles' hand, and he can't see, but he knows it's Derek holding his hand. Stiles tries so hard to let Derek know he's there, but he can't open his eyes, he can't squeeze Derek's hand, he can't-

"Say hi to Daddy, Lily," Derek says, and Stiles thinks he can almost feel Derek's breath on his skin.

Stiles hears Lily making her happy little gurgling sounds, he thinks he feels one of her tiny hands on his face, and he's overcome with such a feeling of love and home and belonging that he tries again, so hard, to open his eyes. He wants to see his daughter. God, he wants to see his _husband_. He wants to come home to them. He wants to be home.

He's shouting in his head, so loud, with everything he has, trying to muster every ounce of available strength, and finally, even though it sounds like a roar to him, what leaves his mouth is a rasp of a whisper. "Derek," he manages,and then tries again. " _Derek_."

"Stiles?" Derek gasps. He obviously hands Lily off, because suddenly Stiles can feel Derek's hands everywhere at once, touching his face, his shoulders, his chest, and wherever he touches, the pain recedes.

Stiles can hear his father calling for the nurse, his voice loud and urgent in the background, but all he really pays attention to is the soft, insistent sound of Derek's voice as he begs Stiles to stay with him, as he tells him how much he loves him, and pleads with him to be alright.

"Open your eyes, Stiles, if you can," Derek says, his voice steady and calm. "Come back to me, please." He reaches for Stiles' hand and squeezes it gently, presses his lips to Stiles's forehead, placing the tenderest of kisses there.

"Derek," Stiles manages again, and he can feel tears dropping from Derek's cheeks onto his face. This time, it's like the volume's been adjusted and Stiles doesn't have to fight as hard to make himself heard. "I'm trying," he says, and with herculean effort, he opens his eyes.  

"Stiles," Derek chokes out, his voice thick with emotion when their eyes meet each other's for the first time in days.

"I love you," Stiles manages to say, before he's exhausted himself and falls back under.

***

When Stiles wakes again, he still feels muzzy, but he opens his eyes to see Derek's head on the side of the bed where he's obviously fallen asleep. It takes some effort, but he’s able to touch his hand to Derek’s hair, the silky strands tickling his fingers.

"Stiles," his father says, his voice heavy with relief. "Don't you ever do that to us again."

"If you tell me what I did, I'll promise to try," Stiles says, turning his head slightly to look at his father.

"There was an accident," his dad says, "you were t-boned at an intersection. Someone ran a red light." He takes a shaky breath and adds, "You nearly died. You sustained a head injury, a punctured lung, some broken ribs, and I could go on, but I won't." He scrubs his hand over his face and repeats himself. "You nearly _died_ , Stiles."

He can only stare at his dad for a minute, but finally, when he can talk through his tears, he says, "I'm so sorry.” Shakily, he takes in as deep a breath as he can. “I love you, Dad, and I'm so, so sorry."

John stands and wraps his arms lightly around Stiles, and in the process, Derek wakes, bolting upright, and looks to Stiles, his eyes wild.

"You're awake," he breathes, and as John steps aside, Derek folds Stiles in his arms.

"I'm going to go call Melissa," John says. "See if Lily's still awake, and if she'll bring her by." He smiles at the both of them before he leaves the room.

"You are awake, right?" Derek asks, rubbing his face against the side of Stiles' head not covered by bandages. "Because I've dreamed this before."

Wincing in pain, Stiles says, "I would hope there'd be better pain killers in your dream. I feel like I've been hit by a truck."

"Too soon with the jokes," Derek chides, and his voice is watery, full of tears. He brushes his nose against Stiles' cheek and jaw, and asks, "Do you need me to get a nurse?"

"Don't you dare leave me," Stiles says without pause. "I'm afraid you'll disappear. Don't leave me until I know this is real."

Derek shimmies onto the bed alongside Stiles, gently pressing the entire length of his body alongside him. "I'm not going anywhere," he says. "I'm not leaving your side. Not anytime soon."

"Love you," Stiles murmurs sleepily.

"Forever," Derek replies.

***

"It's been five months since the accident," Stiles says one morning as they're sitting at the table enjoying a leisurely breakfast. Stiles has coffee, Derek's juiced… something green that Stiles has no desire to partake in, and Lily is enjoying her breakfast of dry cheerios and mashed up banana.

"Seems like a lot longer than that in some ways." Derek reaches across the small kitchen table to squeeze Stiles' hand, and his smile is so bright it’s nearly blinding. "I've been grateful for every single day."

Stiles has to actually put his hand on his chest because his heart feels like it's beating double time at the joy Derek's words bring him. "I feel the same,” Stiles answers. “And I couldn’t have made it through without you and Lil. Thank you feels so inadequate, but I don’t know what else to say.”

Shaking his head, Derek says, “Not necessary. You’re my life, my love. My _husband._ ”

Stiles tries to swallow the lump in his throat as he holds tight onto Derek’s hand. “Well, regardless." He smiles fondly and says, "Today's my last scheduled appointment of physical therapy. Graduation, if you will."

It's been a grueling five months. The sheriff had downplayed Stiles' injuries upon waking. The full list was unfortunately much worse than he'd let on. Stiles' left side had absorbed the impact of the collision, and in addition to his head injury and broken ribs, his arm, clavicle, and leg were broken. As such, it's been weeks and weeks of intensive physical therapy, most sessions leaving Stiles a sweaty, emotional mess. Through it all, though, Derek's been there, and so has Lily. They're Stiles' greatest support, his biggest cheerleaders.

At nine months, Lily can clap her hands now, and she delights in rewarding Stiles' efforts with a trilling laugh and applause when he looks her way. Derek and Stiles are so thoroughly enchanted with her, and don't know how they ever lived without her.

"I'd like for you and Lily to come, if you've got nothing else planned today?" Stiles asks, feeling his heart in his throat. It's not always easy for him to talk about things related to the accident. It took him a couple months to tell Derek what had happened to him when he'd been in a coma.

"There's nowhere Lily and I would rather be than by your side," Derek answers, his hand squeezing Stiles' tightly where they're still clasped together.

Derek's had issues with being hypervigilant; he replaced the totaled Jeep with an SUV with the highest safety rating he could find. He's wary of driving, and tries to limit their trips. Stiles knows it's his way of dealing with the trauma of the accident and almost losing his husband, so he tries to be as patient as he can. He reaches out to wipe some banana off Lily's face at the same time Derek does, and they laugh, the two of them in sync, the three of them connected around the table.

They've made it through. Sure there will be be challenges in the future they'll have to face as individuals and as a family, but Stiles is alive, he's almost back to complete health, and they have a bright future. Most importantly, they have each other.

**Author's Note:**

> The original prompt was: Stiles being dead or heavily injured, he is now being an astral projection or ghost, something. He keeps showing up unintentionally close to Derek, seeing him trying taking care of his child and struggle without his partner. Maybe magic!Stiles where Derek is his anchor? 
> 
> I didn't quite work everything in, and for that, I apologize. Also, I don't normally write angst - so hopefully this wasn't too over the top! Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Much love and appreciation to yodasyoyo for the cheerleading, enthusiasm, general awesomeness and hand-holding. Thanks as well to LupusScintilla (inkandblade) for the thoughtful beta. All remaining mistakes are on me, as I'm never content to leave things alone and keep picking, picking, picking.
> 
> Come hang out with me on [Tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/grimmypuff) I basically reblog all things Sterek, Hoechlin, and Dylan O'Brien. Because what else is there? ;)


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